The Slorres
by divine one
Summary: Mark's parents are coming into town and he needs Callie's help.
1. HELP!

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** The Slorres  
**Chapter** HELP!  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Pair** Mark and Callie  
**Rating** PG  
**Words** 1547  
**Warning/Spoiler/Summary** None. None. Mark's parents are coming to town and he needs help. Response to Aclairec's wishlist request to see Aria in town with Mark and Callie during the holidays.  
**Disclaimer** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show **Grey's Anatomy**. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of **devylish**. **devylish** is in no way associated with the TV show **Grey's Anatomy **and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.

* * *

"Torres."

"Sloan."

Mark settled next to her at the bar. "I need your help."

"I know you need help; I don't, however, know if I have the tools necessary to give you all the help you need." Still facing the bar, she grinned into her drink.

Mark let his gaze float down her figure, stopping for a long second at her cleavage displaying top. "Ahem, uh, yeah, you have the tools."

Callie raised a brow and turned on her barstool to face him. "Thanks for the compliment Mark, but, my tools are staying in my toolbox; they know exactly where your wood has been."

He burst out in laughter. "C'mon! There has to be a statute of limitations on the Grey contamination factor!" He and Lexie had broken up three or four months ago.

"I'll let you know when you've hit it." Callie winked at him and turned back to her drink. Before she could pick it up, however, Mark grabbed it, and holding it out of her reach, took a sip.

"Mark!"

"I'll give it back… lush." He took another sip, and handed the glass to her. "Seriously, Torres, I need your help."

She stirred the straw in her glass and peered at him. _He was serious_. "With…?"

"My parents are coming into town for a week."

Callie gave a low whistle. Mark rarely spoke about his parents, and when he did, it was always with an edge of bitterness. The bitterness was in his voice now. Callie shoved her glass in his direction. "Why're they coming?"

He shrugged. "The reason they've given? 'We want to mend fences son. It's the holidays… a time for family.'" He snorted, "The real reason? I'm assuming Alicia bought some new jewelry, or perhaps Edward purchased a new jet and they want to show them off."

"Mark…" Callie couldn't imagine having parents like Mark's. True, hers weren't perfect – witness the Arizona experiment – but they loved her. She never ever doubted that. Mark? She didn't know if he'd ever even considered that his parents loved him.

"And, uh, there's the fact that they want to meet my roommate/girlfriend/fiancé."

"Lexie? They want to meet Lexie? What're you going to do?"

"Well… that's the thing. Ellen… Ellen Shepherd? Derek's mom? Knew I was dating, that I'd moved in… that I'd proposed. And that's how my parents found out. Ellen's a sweet woman and she hasn't given up on my parents yet. So if she sees them at events, she'll bring me up." He took the final sip of Callie's drink, "she's never quite understood how they didn't care." He snorted lightly, "I think she's still trying to show them what a good boy I am." Other than Callie, Ellen was the only woman who'd ever placed her faith in him. "Anyway." He raised his eyes from the glass to Callie's face. "I've maybe mentioned Lexie's name, like once to Ellen. If she caught it and even if she shared that piece of info with my parents they'll have forgotten it by now. All they'll care about, if they're here to pay any attention to my life, is the fact that I'm engaged and that I'm bringing someone into the Sloan line… and that, that's where you come in baby."

Callie pulled back slightly. '_Baby'… ut oh… he's pulling out the big guns._ "I don't follow."

"I need a fiancé. For one week. Lunch, dinner, theatre with my parents a few times, maybe have them over for cocktails. Then I send them on their merry way back to Massachusetts, and ma, pa, and son can go back to ignoring one another for the next three years."

"Shouldn't you – wouldn't it be easier - just to tell them that you're not seeing Lexie anymore?"

He shrugged. "I'll get the 'son, you're not getting any younger' speech and the 'if you would just be more like Derek, you could land a woman' speech if I spill the truth. I'll get the 'what's her family like, what does she do for a living, will she bear us healthy grandchildren' speeches if I don't tell them about Lexie." He smiled darkly, "you weigh the options."

He leaned forward. "I just need you to move in for a week, play the role when the king and queen are present, and you can do your own thing the rest of the time."

Callie opened her mouth to respond.

"C'mon Cal, you're in my apartment as much as in your own these days." Both of them had handled their perspective breakups in the most mature of fashions. They'd buried themselves in dvds, tequila, icecream, and the sleeping on their best friends couch.

She opened her mouth again.

"Just move some of your clothes into my place, put some of your girlie stuff in my bathroom and after Christmas, I'll set you free."

"Girlie stuff?" She finally squeezed a word into the conversation.

"Perfume, and tampons and… cotton balls. Girlie stuff."

"Out of curiousity, what sort of things are 'boy stuff' in the bathroom?"

"Electric razors."

"That's it?"

"Men are low maintenance."

"Says the man with a Nevada sized plan to avoid telling his parents the truth."

Mark swirled the ice in the glass.

"Fine. I'll do it. when are they coming."

Mark froze. "Did you just say, yes?"

"Yes."

"You said 'yes'?"

Callie sighed, "I want to help my buddy. My pal. My comrade." She blinked her eyes a few times… innocently.

Mark lifted one hand and waved his fingers, beckoning her to get to the truth.

"Okay, Hunt… Yang? The makeup sex is… unbearable. I mean. It's in the kitchen. The living rom, the bathroom. It might have even been in my room. I need to escape... a Hunt/Yang sex-free zone. And your place is as good as any."

"Gee thanks."

"Hey, we both get something out of this, I get to sleep without my iPod on, and you get a pretend fiancé. Win – win."

Mark stared at his best friend, his unlikely best friend. "Thanks."

"Thank me after we successfully fake out your parents."

***

Two weeks later

"So what time do they get in tomorrow?" Callie asked as they walked into the grocery store.

"For the fifth time today, they get in at three."

Callie looked over her shoulder as she waited for Mark to grab a cart. "You're really grouchy as a fiancé."

Mark glared at her. "you took over half of my closet. You rearranged the living room furniture. You rearranged the bedroom furniture…. And 'I'm' grouchy? I think I have reason to be grouchy."

Callie looped her arm through his as he pushed the cart into the store. She was having fun pushing his buttons. Being as girlie as she could possibly be. She liked to think of it as channeling Lexie.

"Oh come on, the living room looks great, and you love it."

"And I hate you."

"You love me."

"You're making me go grocery shopping!"

"You have to eat."

"I have restaurants on speed dial."

"And what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't cook at least one meal for your parents while they were in town?"

He growled. He was almost positive that Callie was being a pain in the ass on purpose. For the last week she'd turned his apartment upside down. He only hoped she'd deescalate the… the fuzzy pink girly attack when his parents arrived.

Callie looked up at Mark's set jaw, and hugged herself into him. "I promise I'll be good after we get the shopping done."

Mark glanced down at her. She was smiling up at him with her Callie smile, the smile he was pretty much defenseless against. Trying to keep his voice gruff, he responded, 'If you keep this up I WILL kick you out on your ass; screw my parents."

"Understood." She released his arm and peeled off to the left, "Ooooh, oranges!"

***

Putting away the pile of groceries that Callie had somehow cajoled him into purchasing, Mark sighed. His shoulders were tight, his neck hurt, his head hurt, and despite his grumpiness towards Callie earlier, it wasn't her fault. It was his parents. If there was anything he could do to get out of this next week, he'd do it. Alicia and Edward Sloan had made his life a hell for most of his life. Actually having them come to his home, to the place that he relaxed in, his refuge… it didn't make him happy.

It made him miserable. And a miserable Mark was no fun.

He turned around and leaned against the counter, watching Callie as she finished putting away the last of the produce.

The only good thing about this whole ordeal? The fact that he was going to get a chance to hang out with Callie some more… and that she'd be there to maybe help deflect some of 'Alicia and Edward' moments.

"Hey buddy." He spoke, getting Callie's attention. She clambered out of the fridge where she had been arranging bottles and bags, and turned to face him.

Holding out his arms, Mark sighed with relief when, without a word, Callie stepped forward and hugged him.

Rubbing his chin against the top of her head he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

"Your welcome."


	2. Owe You Big

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** The Slorres  
**Chapter** 2/? Owe You Big  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Pair** Mark and Callie  
**Rating** PG  
**Words** 2015  
**Warning/Spoiler/Summary** None. None. Mark's parents are coming to town and he needs help. Response to Aclairec's wishlist request to see Aria in town with Mark and Callie during the holidays.  
**Disclaimer** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show **Grey's Anatomy**. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of **devylish**. **devylish** is in no way associated with the TV show **Grey's Anatomy **and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.

* * *

Okay, at this point, Callie would tell anyone who would listen that she hated him.

She really really hated Dr. Mark Sloan.

At the moment, she wanted to hurt him… badly.

She looked down at her grubby workout clothes and grimaced.

She was standing at A-23 Disembarkment at SeaTac Airport. Flight 723 had landed five minutes ago. Flight 723 from Boston.

And yes, it contained Mr. and Mrs. Edward Sloan.

And yes, Callie was standing at A-23 holding a stupid ass, hastily made, cardboard sign that said SLOAN on it.

In her workout clothes.

… with her hair up in the worst looking bun she'd ever created.

She reminded herself to kick Mark in the shin, hard. And then she sighed because she realized it really wasn't Mark's fault that he got stuck in an emergency surgery. An emergency surgery on a little girl with lacerations on her face from being shoved into a plate glass window. The window had missed all major arteries, but there had still been a concern over the possibility of her bleeding out. Bailey had worked on her first, but she had called Mark in to advise and help with plastics clean up. Bailey could save a life with her skills. Mark could save a life in different ways with his skills.

So, no matter how angry she claimed to be, she couldn't really blame Mark for having one of the nurses call her cell and request her to drop everything and pick up his parents.

She couldn't blame him, but as she saw the elegant Alicia and Edward head down the disembarkement hall, she groaned deeply. They were polished. And posh. And even after a 6 hour flight with a 2 hour layover, they looked immaculate. Emergency surgery or no emergency surgery, Mark was going to owe her big for this. This was definitely NOT the first impression she'd wanted to make on his parents…. Fake engagement or not.

Holding her sign higher and pasting a grin on her face she stepped forward.

Mr. Sloan, seeing the sign motioned his wife towards Callie and they both headed her direction.

"How lovely!" Alicia Sloan cooed, "Mark got us a limo driver!"

Callie blinked, but before she could speak, Mr. Sloan responded to his wife's observation.

"Bit underdressed for a limo driver, but I suppose this is the West coast; bit more laid back here about everything." Smiling benevolently at Callie who was still holding the SLOAN sign and staring in shock at Mark's parents, Edward Sloan nodded his head and spoke slowly, "We are the Sloans."

She went from being slightly embarrassed at being mistaken for a driver – a grubby driver – to being pissed at being treated as uneducated. Lowering the sign she extended her hand to Mark's father and in her best, most authoritative voice she offered, "I'm Dr. Callie Torres, your son's fiancée."

To say Mr. and Mrs. Sloan were a bit stunned, would be an understatement. Mrs. Sloan was the first to verbally recover. "Mark's…? Oh, my. My dear. How lovely to finally meet you. I'm Alicia Sloan, and this, this is Edward, Edward Sloan." Her eyes scanned up and down Callie's figure and outfit.

Callie could read the disapproval emanating from Alicia's eyes and she stood a little taller. She'd purchased a cute little red dress, a pair of matching red heels; she'd even planned what she was going to do with her hair… and instead of meeting his parents looking like a 'wow', she was meeting them looking like a 'how'?

Making her smile even bigger she explained her presence. "Mark was called in to an emergency surgery a few hours ago so he asked that I come and – chauffeur you to your hotel – then, if you're not too tired, we'll take you out to dinner later tonight?" She didn't wait for their answer; instead she led the way to the baggage claim area.

"So, you work with our son?" Alicia caught up with the quickly moving Callie.

"Yes, yes for a few years now."

"And you're a doctor?"

Was it Callie's imagination or was there a tone of disbelief in Mrs. Sloan's voice.

"Orthopedic surgeon."

"A surgeon too?!"

Definitely a tone of disbelief.

She wanted to say: _A_ _damn good ortho surgeon!_ But she reminded herself, barely, that the goal of this whole 'meet the parents' event was to get them in and out, and maybe to help Mark rebuild his relationship with them… not to start a new war.

"She's an orthopedic surgeon, Edward," Alicia spoke over her shoulder to her husband. "Isn't that just lovely?"

Although….starting a war might be necessary.

***

Mark dragged into his apartment at 630pm. His day had been hellish, stress about his parents coming into town, the surgery on the12 year old girl, then, a consultation with a woman with more vanity that even he had. She wanted so much of her body nipped, tucked, tightened, and plumped; he could make a career out of just her surgeries alone. He'd done his best to convince her not to make the changes, they were unnecessary, but she had talked him into a video consultation for next week.

His three surgeries today and this last consultation had just drained him. And now he had to get ready to meet his parents.

"Cal?" he hadn't spoken to her since last night when they'd finalized their plans for today. Of course, those plans had gone to hell in a hand basket by midday today. "Cal?!"

She stuck her head out of the bathroom an eyebrow raised and then she silently ducked back into the bathroom.

Shit.

"So I take it you met my parents?" He dropped his bag on the floor and listened to the continued silence. Clearly she was mad.

At him.

"Cal you know I would have picked them up if I could have." He moved to the bathroom and leaned against the hall wall… "What did they do to you?"

Callie swung the door open and turned back to face the vanity mirror above the sink. "Besides assuming I was a chauffeur because I was wearing my work out gear, and speaking to me as if I was an idiot? Your mother asked if I would be cooking something 'Spanish' for them while they were in town… 'Because Edward and I just love Spanish food… don't we Edward?'" Callie threw on a cultivated east coast accent as she quoted Alicia.

Mark heard what Callie said, but just barely, his eyes were riveted on her figure, she was wearing something red and sexy and definitely distracting.

Callie stopped brushing her hair when Mark remained silent. Looking at him through the mirror she smiled lightly. Well at least she could tell he liked her dress. "Mark!"

His eyes shot up from her legs. "Huh? What?"

"Drool later, listen now. Did you hear what your mother said to me?" She repeated the non-pc comment and watched Mark scratch the back of his head in embarrassment. "I take it you knew your parents were a little bit racist?"

"I was hoping they'd behave."

"So not only do we have to deal with their classism, but now there's racism to worry about?"

"I'll talk to them."

She sighed. His parents being dumb about race wasn't his fault. Studying him carefully for the first time since he'd gotten home, Callie noted just how tired he looked. Tired and frustrated. Taking pity on him she offered, "Don't worry about it Mark. I've definitely heard worse; I just wasn't expecting it from your parents. You're nothing like that." She moved towards him and pushed against the collar of his jacket, letting it drop off of his frame and onto the floor. "You go take a hot shower, and I'll put some clothes out for you."

"I can dress myself," he argued lightly.

"I know. You're a big boy now. I'm just trying to save you some time. We're suppose to meet them at 730pm."

Mark glanced at his watch and cursed under his breath. "Okay, you can pick out some clothes for me, but don't pick out anything that's going to make me look like a dork."

Callie paused on her way towards his bedroom, turning partially she smiled at him, "Do I look like I even _know_ how to do dork?"

Mark let his eyes scan her again. "Good point."

****

They were finishing up dinner at the small, but excellent restaurant: Epoch. Mark had specifically picked the restaurant because the food was quality, and the service was strong. His parents would have nothing to complain about.

He should have known them better.

They'd complained about the seating, insisting that they be moved from one table to another one. They'd whispered – loudly – about the waitress who had moved too slowly for their liking. And they had blasted the food, insisting that the seafood in Boston was heads and tails above the gruel they were receiving here.

And then there were their little jibes at him… and at Callie.

He was use to their attacks of him. It's what he'd grown up with. Never meeting their expectations was what he knew… what he expected. Callie, on the other hand, she didn't deserve this. He'd forgotten how cruel… how inconsiderate Mommy and Daddy Dearest could be. Edward with his eyes glued to Callie's chest while Alicia berated everything and not so subtly tried to feel out Callie's heritage. She'd just asked Callie what her parents did for a living. When Callie responded that her father owned Torres' Foods, Alicia responded, somewhat presumptively, "Oh, how nice. You know, I have always found little mom and pop stores to be just… well quaint and sweet. They must be so proud to have a daughter who's a real doctor."

Seeing Mark's jaw tighten, Callie slipped her hand in to Mark's, squeezing his hand gently, inconspicuously, giving him silent support as he tried to hold back his frustration and anger at his parents. He took a deep breath and in as normal of a tone as he could manage, he responded: "her parents are proud of _her_. But they're the type of people who would be proud of their daughter if she was a cleaning woman – as long as she was happy." Mark picked up his drink and offered a bit of information to his mother. "And by the way, mother, Torres' Foods? Third largest produce supplier in the nation."

"Third largest …? I…" Alicia glanced at Callie with newfound respect and even Edward stopped looking at her chest… for a few seconds. "Well my dear, we definitely should plan a time, before the wedding to have your parents come to Boston, or maybe we can go to Florida to visit them? You know, just so the families can meet one another?"

The rest of the evening passed with Mark being patted on the back by his parents for 'finding such a delightful fiancée.' And with Callie suddenly being fawned over by Alicia.

Paying the bill, and heading out of the restaurant, Callie and Mark found themselves promising to meet his parents for lunch the next day as they handed them into the taxi that would take them back to their hotel.

As the cab pulled away from the curb and headed down the street, Callie turned and looked up at Mark. A Mark who's body suddenly seemed drained of energy. Looping her arm through his she started their walk to the parking lot.

"I'm sorry about that."

"About what?"

"My parents. They… I mean… I owe you big. And if you want to back out, I won't blame you."

Callie looked up at Mark as they walked. "Mark you don't have to apologize, you're not to blame for who or how your parents are." She smiled at him as they stopped next to his car. "Don't worry about me; I'm going to make them love me so much they won't know what to do with themselves." She took the keys he'd pulled out of his pocket and announced, "I'll drive."


	3. Gin & Tonic

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** The Slorres  
**Chapter** Gin and Tonic 3/?  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Pair** Mark and Callie  
**Rating** pg13  
**Words** 1988  
**Warning/Spoiler/Summary** None. None. Mark's parents are coming to town and he needs help.  
**Disclaimer** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show **Grey's Anatomy**. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of **devylish**. **devylish** is in no way associated with the TV show **Grey's Anatomy **and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.  
**AN **For the sake of my story. Mark's apartment is a two bedroom and the kitchen is closed off from the rest of the apartment.

***

"I think I liked it better when they hated me." Callie leaned against the counter with a sigh. She and Mark had managed to escape from the cloying 'friendliness' of the Sr. Sloans for a few seconds on the pretext of getting drinks in the kitchen.

Mark grimaced. "Told you it was easier when they ignored you." He opened the freezer pulling ice out.

Callie's heart twinged just a bit at his comment. It was true, the weekend with the Sloans had been... irritating for her, but Mark? Poor Mark. He'd grown up with them. She walked up to him and did the only thing she could think to do – gave him a hug. "I'm sorry your parents suck," she mumbled against his chest.

He set the ice aside and wrapped his arms around her, relaxing into the hug... forgetting about his parents for just a second. Releasing Callie after a moment or two, he picked up the ice tray again and twisted the cubes loose.

Heading to the cabinet, Callie pulled four tumblers out and placed them on the counter next to Mark.

He reached for the gin and the tonic at the back of the counter, and dropping two cubes into each glass he began to pour while Callie moved to the fridge behind him and pulled out a lime.

They worked in comparative silence, filling the glasses, slicing the fruit, until they finally stood side by side at the island.

Mark lifted a glass, handed it to Callie, then picked up his own glass. Lifting his head he gave a toast. "To four more days... and to good friends."

They clinked their glasses together.

***

"Another drink?" Mrs. Sloan offered to top off their glasses from the bottles of gin and tonic that had been moved into the living room about an hour ago.

Callie wanted another drink... badly. Being with the pretentious, title and money loving Sloans was … well, let's just say, alcohol was helpful.

Glancing at the television that hummed quietly in the corner, Callie eeped a very unladylike, "Shit!"

She looked back at the suddenly quiet room and tried to backtrack. "I mean.. umm...," giving up she simply pointed at the television. A television that was showing a weatherman and flashing the words 'winter weather warning' brightly across the screen.

Callie reached for the remote and turned the volume up on the TV.

"... weatherman Went Dicletter here, updating the Seattle center with the surprise storm of the season..... we definitely weren't expecting this weather tonight, but, well, we have it. So far we've seen eight inches collect in the city, and folks, I'm sorry to say, there's no sign of any let up any time soon. We've got icy roads, and very poor driving conditions due to blowing snow. Our recommendation is to stay indoors unless you **have** to go outside. Again, we repeat: Due to severe weather conditions, Seattle and all outlying suburbs, are strongly recommended to bundle up and remain indoors."

Callie turned the volume back down, and stole a look at Mark from the corner of her eye; smiling, slightly, when he uttered a quiet, "Fuck."

Taking matters in to her own hands, Callie stood up, wavering only slightly. "Mr. and Mrs. Sloan, you're going to spend the night here." Her _offer_ brooked no argument... from the Sloans OR from Mark.

Alicia halfheartedly tried to poo-poo Callie's offer. "Oh, but sweetie, we wouldn't want to put you and Mark out."

"It's no problem. We'll," she extended her hand to Mark, "just go make certain the spare room is ready for you and get you some towels and... pajamas and things and we'll be all set."

Alicia pushed against her husband and tried to stand up – trying being the operative word – "Darling, let me come and help you."

"No!" Both Mark and Callie responded sharply. For the past few days, Callie had been sleeping in the spare room so it was filled with her clothes, and shoes. Mark and she needed to get her crap out of the guest room and into _his_ room before they could let his parents in there to sleep.

"I mean, no. You and Edward just... sit there. And finish your drinks. Mark will help me."

"Yeah. I'll help her. That's what fiances are for. Right?"

"Oh," Alicia plopped tipsily back down next to Edward, "very well. But just let us know if you need any help!" She chirped happily as she grasped at her tumbler of gin and tonic.

Leaving Edward and Alicia in the living room, Callie and Mark headed in to the spare room; Callie offered a quick whispered, "Closet!" and Mark moved to the closet, grabbing the clothes she'd hung in there and heading to the door to take a peek at the hall before he snuck across to his bedroom. Callie, in the meantime, went to the dresser, and pulled out her t shirts and underwear, and copying Mark, she dashed silently to his room. Throwing her belongings on the bed, she dragged Mark back across the apartment into the second bedroom.

"Shoes!" she hissed as she moved to the bed and began to strip it down.

"What are you doing?" he hissed back.

"Changing the sheets," she responded without looking up.

"Why?"

"No WAY your parents are sleeping in the same bed I've slept in, on the same sheets I've slept in. No WAY!"

Mark paused and stared at her silently. "Wait, why? I mean, it's not like we've been," he waved his hand between the two of them. "I mean... we haven't had any... and definitely not in here. Why would you...?"

"Mark! Shoes! Then come back and help me."

Mark shrugged, but did as he was told; returning to her side within seconds and helping her strip the sheets and pillows off of the bed. They remade the bed with fresh sheets in a minute flat, before Callie took a quick look around the room and sighed with relief. "Okay. I think we're good."

***

It wasn't until fifteen minutes later – after they'd successfully ushered Mark's parents into their room – that the true gravity of their situation hit Callie. She was about to spend the night with Mark. In his bed.

She hadn't spent a night with him since... well, since they were bed-buddies.

Oh sure, they'd fallen asleep in the living room together. She'd even seen him naked (glass showers were wonderful things) a few times. But they hadn't shared a bed... hadn't spent a whole night, sleeping... or not sleeping, together in... way over a year.

Callie stood with her back to the closed bedroom door and stared at the bed.

_Had it always been so big? _

_So inviting?_

_So... 'Mark could do some amazing things to me' beddish?_

Mark was shoving things around in his closet, trying to make room for the 'too many clothes' she'd brought with her. "Jesus Torres! I know girls have a lot of clothes, but... Jesus!"

Noting the silence that followed his jibe, he turned around and found Callie staring. Staring at his bed.

And suddenly he was staring at the bed too.

The bed he was going to share with Callie.

Scratching the back of his head, he offered a trademarked Sloan smile. "So do you want to get naked now? Or later?"

Suddenly able to move, Callie rolled her eyes and headed to the drawer she'd shoved her t shirts and sweats into. "Sorry Sloan, the deal was I'd be your fiance when your parents were around. They're not technically around, so I'm not technically on duty anymore."

"So... no naked time?"

Callie responded with a loud snort.

Mark teased, "Fine... but, you **know** what you're missing."

He hadn't really expected that Callie would jump into bed with him... not really. But he wouldn't be 'Mark' if he hadn't tried. Truth be told, he was feeling a little on edge by the presence of Callie... in his room... again. It brought back a lot of memories. Good memories. He did his best to ignore the feeling of tightness that built in his gut as he watched her pull her pajamas out of the dresser drawer.

***

They'd brushed their teeth, combed their hair, changed their clothes, and were now propped up in the bed; Callie with a magazine in her hand, Mark with a laptop on his lap.

The lights were low.

The apartment hummed with silence. Silence and this shaky, twisting... moving heat.

The alcohol and the tension getting to her, Callie placed her magazine against her legs, and lifting her hands to her hair, she shifted it up and away from her neck; rolling her shoulders.

She didn't notice the way that Mark stopped typing at his keyboard. The way he studied her arms... the column of her neck.

She didn't notice any of those things, and instead, with a sigh, she lowered her hands to her magazine and flipped through a few more pages before frustration made her close it.

It was only then that she realized that Mark wasn't typing; that he was staring.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh. Nothing." He turned back to his laptop, forcing himself to type; the words on the screen nothing but gibberish.

Callie watched his profile, his jaw, his Adams apple. _Shit, I'm fucking watching his Adam's apple! _She closed her eyes. _I want him!? Fuck! How?! Why? Out of nowhere? _

Although, 'out of nowhere' wasn't actually the truth; she'd been feeling twinges of desire for him a lot recently. Wanting her best friend in little ways, off and on. She'd been especially 'twingey' for the past few days; since they'd started _playing_ house.

Blinking rapidly, she tossed her magazine on to the floor and leaned toward her bedside lamp. "I'm going to, uh, go to sleep."

Mark stopped his fruitless typing. "Sounds good." He shut off his laptop and then turned his own bedside lamp off. Then both he and Callie shifted down in the bed, further under the covers, a foot and a half of space between their bodies.

_Stupid. Soooo stupid. Why am I so wired? Wide awake. Completely and totally aware of Mark Sloan. And I don't want to be aware of him. I really want to be able to ignore him. To … to... _Callie let her shoulders slump in dismay. She hated lying. Especially to herself.

***

_Five minutes. _Mark watched the clock's illuminated lights flip to 10:07. _We've been lying here... in the same bed, not touching one another for five minutes. Have I __**ever**__ laid in a bed with a woman and not touched her for five minutes? _He blew out a quiet puff of air. _Especially a woman I... _He didn't finish his thought; instead, he stretched out his arm across the back of Callie's pillow and muttered, "Come here."

***

Neither one of them made a sound as Callie slowly shifted to Mark's side, placing her head against his chest and her hand at his waist. As she snuggled closer to him – suddenly immensely tired, and immensely relaxed – Mark lowered his hand to her arm.

_Did she always smell this good? _His mind whispered to him.

_Did he always feel this... safe? _Callie's mind whispered to her.

Mark moved his hand from her arm to her hair, twiddling with a few strands before carelessly losing his fingers in her locks. When he felt her breathing steady and he was sure she was finally asleep, Mark tilted his head ever so slightly and kissed the top of Callie's head before closing his own eyes, and giving in to the call of sleep.


	4. Map

**Author** Devylish  
**Title** The Slorres  
**Chapter** Map 4/6  
**Fandom** Grey's Anatomy  
**Pair** Mark and Callie  
**Rating** pg13  
**Words** 1635  
**Warning/Spoiler/Summary** None. None. Mark's parents are coming to town and he needs help.  
**Disclaimer** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of the creators of the TV show **Grey's Anatomy**. Any original characters, settings and plots are the property of **devylish**. **devylish** is in no way associated with the TV show **Grey's Anatomy **and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.

* * *

They were spooning.

Not that that was something they hadn't done before, but..., well... they were spooning, and it was morning, and they hadn't had sex the night before. .

... if the object poking her backside was any indication of things, they could _easily_ rectify that 'no sex' issue.

"Awake?" Mark's voice was husky and sleepy in my ear.

"Mmm hmmm," Callie glanced at the clock, _6am_. "We should probably get up, get dressed, get some breakfast prepared for your parents."

Mark groaned. "Screw my parents." He tugged her closer and nuzzled his head against hers. "Le's just stay in bed. All day. Get naked..." He rubbed his hips against Callie's. "...have some hot hot sex. Dirty hot sex."

Callie barely stopped the moan that crept to her lips and she _couldn't_ stop the smile that bloomed on them. Fortunately for her, Mark was still half asleep and she was able to scoot away from him, her body tingling everywhere he'd touched; and aching for his touch everywhere else.

Standing up at the side of the bed, she gave a crooked smile at the sound of his groan of frustration. "Breakfast Sloan."

A few minutes later she found herself in the kitchen, wondering what she could feed her probably hungover in laws.

She froze. _Whoa... Calliope, they are NOT your in laws.... you don't want them as your in laws.... Bad, bad Callie!_

She had just cleared her mind of it's Freudian slip when she felt Mark's hands slide around her waist, his chin running along the top of her head.

"I haven't had sex in the kitchen in a while."

She elbowed him away from her. "Mark your parents are here."

"So when they leave? Hanky panky?"

"No Mark. No hanky. No panky."

Mark hopped up onto the island with a sigh.

They existed in silence for a few minutes; her opening cabinets and the refrigerator, looking for food. Him, watching her.

Callie started, "We should get --"

"We were good together, weren't we?"

Mark's question made her stop. "Huh?"

"You... me...? We were good together – with one another … right?"

She answered him carefully, her eyes glued to the wall, "the sex was good."

He snorted, "The sex was amazing. World class. Dirty. Sexy sex." He didn't miss Callie's unconscious hip wiggling in response to his words, but he ignored her reaction, at least for the moment. "But that's not what I meant. I meant... you and me. The non-sex times. We were good – for one another."

Callie once again tried to escape the tenseness of the moment. "There were non-sex times?"

Silence.

She turned around with a frustrated sigh. "Now? Do we have to do this now?" _Did he have to ask her about how she felt about him back then? About how we were? Did he have to ask her this stuff now? When she was stuck to his side? Playing his woman? Too close to him? _She moved to escape the kitchen, to escape him, but he beat her to it, jumping off of the counter so that he was right in front of her.

"'Now' seems like a good time to me." He leaned in to her, only giving half a smile when she backed up. His Callie ran away from emotions even better than he did. He wondered if that's what they'd seen in one another, that first night... the fact that they were afraid to open up to people. The fact that they'd both been hurt and they were both sore from the pain. Sore, and a little bit damaged.

He chased her the one step it took to pin her against the counter. He rested a hand on the counter-top on either side of her. "I think we were good together Cal." He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Why didn't we take it all the way?"

The word "Lexie," slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Mark bent his head back and looked her in the eyes incredulously, "Really?! You're going to go there? What about Erica? Arizona?"

"I didn't move in with any of my women," she muttered, her fingers unconsciously curling round pieces of his t shirt, holding him in place.

"Oh... okay," he agreeably mocked her... his voice low as he pressed his body against hers, freeing one hand and lifting it to her chin, tilting her head up. "Have I thanked you for helping me with... all of this mess?"

She suddenly found that she'd forgotten how to breathe. She'd been doing breathing on her own, unprompted and unimpeded for the pat 31 years.

… except when Mark was around.

He made her forget.

How to breathe.

And it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that the one man she really couldn't have – the one person – she couldn't have... made her forget how to do the most basic things.

She gathered the stray strands of her wits close to her. "I think you've said... thank you... maybe once or twice since this whole thing began." And there was that breath she'd been unable to find... trapped around her words, making them sound huskier than she'd intended.

He dipped his head and nipped at her lower lip with his teeth. "Thank you Calliope."

It was a tender, easy, scarcely there nip. And it wrecked her senses. She didn't even mind that he'd used her full first name. Her grip on his shirt released and her hands slid up his chest, coming to a rest at his shoulders. And when he pulled his head away from hers, from the scarcely there taste of her lips, she hunted after him.

Mark groaned a quiet Thank God, when Callie's lips touched his. He hadn't planned on going all that far away, but it was nice to know she wanted him.

He lifted her up on to the counter and sidled between her legs, nestling his body against hers. "We were good together," he murmured in her ear before he began a concerted assault of her neck and jaw.

Her memories, heightened by her reawakened senses screamed at him, _we were amazing together, you idiot. _

Mark's hands were traversing her body, reacquainting themselves to her map; relearning the favorite routes, the secret pathways. He had never really forgotten the wonder that was Callie, but time changes everything, and he wanted to reassure himself... both of them... that he still knew her. That he knew her best. And that whatever had changed, whatever had come to pass, he could handle those turns, those curves; and he could handle them better than anyone she'd ever been with.

He traced a finger along the edge of the boxer shorts she'd put on for bed last night, his other hand was under her shirt palming as much as it could of one of her breasts. Yeah, he was definitely in a good place. Callie, a soon to be naked and writhing Callie, in his arms... in his apartment. He slipped his finger beneath the waistband and began his journey lower.

"Oh My God!"

Both Callie and Mark froze for half a second before, Callie, peering over Mark's shoulder, and Mark, turning to look over his own shoulder, verified their worst unrealized fear... Mark's mom was standing the doorway of the kitchen.

Busted!!!

"Oh, dear! I... Hmmm I... ," Mrs. Sloan blushed, then steeled herself with her usually icy, demeanor and offered, "Apparently, we will definitely need to move on getting that wedding date set. Wouldn't want any unplanned surprises happening before you're married, now would we?"

Callie could tell Alicia _thought_ she was being humorous and playful in what was still an enormously embarrassing situation; unfortunately, she was way, way off the mark of being humorous by intimating that Mark and Callie might **need** to get married because he might impregnate her.

Mark groaned, turned his head back to Callie, and kissing her forehead, he helped her down from the counter. "I hate my parents." he whispered.

"I kind of hate them too." Callie whispered as she adjusted her clothing before turning her attention to face Alicia. Edward was now standing behind his wife a look of curiosity on his face. "Oh, c'mon Alicia, I'm certain you and Edward are anxious to dote upon a grandchild or two." Callie was actually certain of the exact opposite. Per Mark, they had refused to recognize the existence of Sloan Sloan, telling Mark that she was surely some sort of scam artist after the family money. Callie was pretty positive that Alicia, in particular, was NOT excited by the idea of becoming Granny Alicia.

Alicia's frame straightened. "Oh you two have plenty of time to plan for children."

Edward leaned over his wife's shoulder, his eyes taking in Callie's bare legs and loose, but bra-less t-shirt. "Now, now Alicia, with a fiance like that, I'm surprised Mark and Callie haven't already given us a grandchild or two."

Callie wondered if the word 'children' have been said with any more disgust, or if the words 'like that' could have been said any more lasciviously. Pitying Mark even more than she had before for having had to grow up with Alicia and Edward, she protectively, almost unconsciously wrapped her arms over her chest.

"Mark, honey, we should get some coffee into your parents. I'm certain their heads are killing them." Moving to the kitchen door she edged past the parents she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, "I'll go get some Tylenol." _And a robe_.


End file.
